


The Other Mr. Stark

by jelly_pies



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Humor, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Peter Parker, Time Travel Shenanigans, Tony Stark acting as Peter Parker's guy in the chair, hand-wavy tech stuff, lovable dumbass energy Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly_pies/pseuds/jelly_pies
Summary: Peter knows exactly five things about Howard Stark.One: the guy was a genius. Two: he wasn’t winning any father-of-the-year awards anytime soon. Three: Howard Stark keeps intense security measures on all cutting-edge technology. Especially those that could possibly be modified, sometime in the future, to navigate through time. Four: as much as Peter adores all Howard Stark’s technological accomplishments, he isn’t exactly looking forward to talking with the man. Five: he has to. Howard is their only way home.-Peter and Tony (but mostly Peter) meet Howard Stark when an accident takes them back in time.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 47
Kudos: 290
Collections: Irondad and his Iron kids, The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	The Other Mr. Stark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icymapletree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icymapletree/gifts).



> Sooo this ended up longer than expected but I had fun with this prompt! Hope you enjoy it too :)

"Peter? Hey. Stay with me, buddy."

Peter blinks through the darkness, and slowly, a worried face fills his vision.

"Mr. — Mr. Stark?"

Tony. He was with Tony, wasn’t he? He had gone to get him from the lakehouse garage for dinner… Tony had been working on something… Peter feels his brain wading groggily through the information.

"Yeah." Tony exhales, patting his cheek gently. "You're okay. Can you sit up?"

Peter groans when he moves — he must have fallen hard. Fallen? How —

The explosion. Tony had been working on something. Or, working on destroying something. In the garage. Peter rubs his forehead, willing his memories to start working.

The time watch. The disassembled pieces, shaking. The explosion.

Peter’s vision spins, and it takes a minute of blinking before he can take in their surroundings.

He freezes. They're not in the garage.

The room is huge, ceiling far above, gray walls. Empty. Peter first thinks of the Compound, but then he notices some equipment pushed up against the far side from where he and Tony had landed on the floor. Machines and computers, dials and switches and blinking lights. It looks like retro movie props for some Star Trek command center; high tech, if it were fifty years ago.

“Easy, buddy, you absorbed most of that freak impact,” Tony says, helping him sit up.

“Where —?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know that, too. I think the more pertinent question, though, is when.”

Peter blinks again, not sure if he heard right or if the shock is still messing with his senses. “What?”

“Who, how, why,” Tony jabs lightly, working through problems with humor, as usual. He points at Peter’s hand. “Can I have that back?”

Peter stares down at his hand. It’s still holding the time watch.

He remembers grabbing that, the watch thing, bracelet — sorry, quantum realm navigator. Grabbing it and shielding Mr. Stark with his body just as light exploded out of nowhere.

“Um. Whatever happened, I didn’t do it.”

“This time I actually believe you,” Tony jokes, plucking the device from Peter’s palm.

But the watch had a few components missing. Finally, the last pieces of the puzzle slot into Peter’s mind.

Of course some components would be missing, that’s what Tony had been working on in the first place. The time heist was done, everybody was back, and now time travel had to go back to being a thing of the past. Tony had been carefully disassembling his own creation. Until Peter came into the room.

“Typical Parker luck,” Peter groans. “God, I was having a good streak too, more than three months since its last strike. I mean, I could almost see it like, like a company noticeboard.”

Tony hums patiently through Peter’s rambling. “Wasn’t you, Pete. Highly reactive, the smallest thing could — that, that’s why I insisted on working on this one alone.”

Peter remembers that too. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalls the little nostalgic pang when he opened the garage door and saw Tony focused on his work. And how he realized that in the months since Tony’s recovery, they had never really gotten any time working together. In missions, or in the lab, those things they used to bond over so well before. And Peter missed it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony continues. “Dr. Wizard’s gonna find us and take us back soon. As long as this thing’s still transmitting.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We thought this might be a side effect,” Tony shrugs. “The whole thing’s dangerous to build, even more dangerous to take apart. So Strange said he’d keep a lookout for irregularities, as a safety net. You know, it actually almost did happen once, funny story, I swear you should come around the lakehouse more often —”

“Tony,” Peter interrupts, eyes wide, “are you telling me we just time-traveled?”

“Not on purpose,” the older man defends, quirking one eyebrow and shrugging over-emphatically.

“And we shouldn’t be worried?”

Tony turns the watch — bracelet? — over in his hands. “No, not unless the good doctor’s busy on a date right this second. Though I highly doubt it. He should —” Suddenly he stops. Tony squints at a certain spot in the mechanism, shines a beam on it from the palm of his specially-equipped robotic right hand, and stops again. “Shit,” he breathes.

“Um. Okay, what’s up, what happened, wh-what can we do.”

“I already soldered the core off.” Tony holds the device up, cursing under his breath as Peter takes a closer look. “Right here, look — huge hole, size of a coin. This is, that was, uh, crucial for the whole, kinda, locating function.”

“Oh.” Peter takes in Tony’s frown, his fingers working the bracelet over and over. “That’s bad.”

“It was an old Stark Industries weapon component I modified. I wonder if the removal was what set off the reaction in the first place...”

“So Dr. Strange can’t find us.”

“No.” Tony sighs. “Yeah, no.”

Peter exhales slowly, blowing out through the mouth. “The funny thing is, this isn’t even the craziest thing to happen to us this year.”

Tony chuckles lightly at that for a second, then his eyes return to the bracelet and his expression turns grimmer. Peter can almost hear the gears turning behind his mentor’s head.

He looks up at Tony, trying to convey his trust. “Okay, Mr. Stark. What now?”

“Let’s, uh, back up.” Tony pushes himself off the floor. “I can’t reach FRIDAY. Neither of us got a suit?” Peter nods in confirmation and lets Tony pull him up. “We don’t know where, or, uh, when we are, so that’s top priority,” Tony continues quickly. “Strange can bring us back, but we gotta send a signal so he knows where to find us. So we need a replacement piece —”

And then, from the other end of the large room, they hear a door open.

-

To be honest, crouching behind computer tables and tangled wiring isn’t as bad as it sounds. Peter’s used to making impromptu hideouts on missions, and he makes good use of his heightened hearing to keep a lookout. Tony, on the other hand, sticks one robotic finger above the table, opens a mini camera from the tip, and views the feed from a holographic screen near his elbow, working his arm like a periscope.

Five or six men enter the room, examining some of the equipment. Luckily they seem to be focusing on the computers on the other side. Peter thinks they may have landed in some sort of storage unit or warehouse, where the men are now cataloging the hardware. Then the group moves to the spacious middle of the room, make some measurements on the floor, and Tony follows their progress with his arm camera.

“How many gadgets you got on that thing?” Peter whispers.

“You know me, kid, are you really surprised?”

"You're like that cyborg from Treasure Planet."

Another man enters the warehouse. Peter barely hears his conversation with the others, but he seems to be the one in charge. When the man turns away briefly to make a phone call, Tony follows him with the camera. He squints harder at his arm's screen, shoulders tensing, face carefully neutral.

Peter doesn't chance a peek, but he hears the boss hissing into the phone. Growling, clearly angry, but Peter can only make out the tone, not the words. He ends the call with a loud curse. Something slamming.

A few minutes later the boss rejoins the other men, and soon they walk out, leaving the room in silence once again.

Peter breathes out slowly, waiting for Tony’s lead.

“Well,” Tony says eventually, “at least they got good timing. I know where we are, Underoos. And when.”

“Your arm tell you all that?”

“Those men did.” Tony flips the screen, letting Peter see a paused video of the earlier crowd. “Stark Industries ID’s. From the looks of this space, I’d say we’re in one of three possible soon-to-be R&D labs.”

“Wow." Peter whistles. "SI? We lucked out. You said the core we’re missing is an old SI piece.”

“Might explain why the irregularity brought us here, yeah,” Tony ponders. “But I wouldn’t thank our luck just yet. I recognized a couple of the guys who came in. From the looks of it, we’re in the mid-1980’s, kid.”

“Oh. Okay.” Peter feels his mind going a million miles a minute. “So any employees would recognize you. Or at least be suspicious. We gotta minimize that, right? Meddling with the timeline and all?” Tony nods, letting Peter ride out his train of thoughts. “Plus there’s the arm. You’d raise too many questions. So, um, any recon and retrieving, I gotta be the one to do it.”

“Sorry,” Tony winces.

“Hey, anything to get us home.”

“There’s another thing you need to know.” Tony zooms in on the paused footage. For the first time, Peter can clearly see the face of the last man who entered the room. The one who acted like the boss. He’s scowling in the picture, clearly displeased with whoever he’d just been speaking to over the phone. Peter sparks recognition at the same moment Tony says the man’s name. “Peter Parker,” Tony says in a low voice, “meet Howard Stark.”

-

Peter knows exactly four things about Howard Stark.

One: the guy was a genius. Inventor, man of the future, Captain America’s transformation, working with SHIELD — Peter knows it all. Including how Howard Stark’s achievements had cost him his life.

Two: he wasn’t winning any father-of-the-year awards anytime soon. Peter had heard the stories, had seen how Tony talked about his father. Yes, he also knows of Tony’s closure, the “Howard Potts” tale from the time heist (Pepper wasn’t gonna let that one go for a long time). But the Tony of this timeline, he hadn’t made that kind of peace yet. And this Howard, right here and now, maybe he didn’t deserve it.

Three: Howard Stark keeps intense security measures on all cutting-edge technology. Especially those that could possibly be modified, sometime in the future, to navigate through time. The safe itself could be located easily, if a certain current owner had intimate knowledge of SI’s labs, which he did, and some blueprints swiped off an old computer, which they had. The missing piece: a voice-recorded password.  _ Tacky, _ Tony comments, and Peter can’t help but agree, but there’s no way around it: a specific phrase Peter would have to find some way to make Howard say, then relay to Tony through earpieces produced from a small storage section in his robotic arm. (“Seriously, Mr. Stark, what else do you have in there, a toothbrush?”)

Four: as much as Peter adores all Howard Stark’s technological accomplishments, he isn’t exactly looking forward to talking with the man. Much less exacting a top-security password out of him. At all. To put it mildly, Peter is nervous.  _ “God, Rhodey’s stories always make him sound so mean, and he’s like freaking Einstein and I’m so high-strung like, I was anxious meeting Bruce Banner for the first time Mr. Stark, imagine,” _ nervous.

… Make that five things he knows. Five: Howard Stark’s son gives shit pep talks to his mentee when he’s on edge about meeting said Howard Stark. But Howard Stark’s granddaughter would be sorely disappointed if they were to miss dinner.

Peter  _ has _ to face Howard. He’s their only way home.

-

“Make a right here, Pete,” Tony says through the comms in his ear.

Peter obeys, not bothering to sneak past the cameras, trusting Tony with his hurriedly set-up computer station back at the empty lab to take care of that, too. He stops at the elevator on the end of the hallway, adjusting his glasses to focus on the security keypad beside the handle.

“You seeing this?” Thank god he’d had EDITH in his pocket when he went to fetch Tony from the garage. Tony had had his own glasses on him, too, while working the time bracelet.

“Seeing, yep, working on it,” Tony replies. Peter hears typing on the other end of the line. After a couple of seconds, Tony gives him the code to punch in. “Aaand that should take you Dad’s office. Way to go, bud.”

“Okay.” The elevator doors open, and Peter steps inside. “Okay, so I hack his computer. Check his schedule. We’ll see where he is, what’s the best intercept plan, and go from there.”

“You’re also getting in his computer so I can find out what the password actually is.”

“Right. Right, forgot that. Ten-four.”

“How did these dinosaurs even centralize operations before JARVIS,” Tony scoffs. “It’d just be so much easier, right? For us, too.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Over-reliance on artificial intelligence so far as risking security and, and privacy, that’s the bane of the current generation, Mr. Stark.”

“Aw, come on, Underoos, don’t let me down like that.”

Peter makes quick work on the computer once he gets to the office. In a couple of minutes EDITH is decrypting the files they need and sending them over to Tony. Peter waits the process out, looking around Howard’s office in the meantime. It’s awfully bare, the leather-and-metal furniture existing purely for function. A few awards and certificates line the walls, a picture of him shaking Peggy Carter’s hand. A single portrait on the desk, a woman Peter recognizes as a younger Maria Stark. Nothing on Tony.

“We’ve hit a blank on the schedule,” Tony sighs, as EDITH keeps transferring files. “Although I really should have seen that coming, typical Dad.”

“Alright, then I’ll wing the meeting.”  _ Find the CEO in a compound of labs and offices, sure, Parker. Easy. _ “I’m outta here as soon as EDITH finishes decrypting the password.”

“Be careful, Pete. Remember, he just needs to say the different words within your hearing, and I’ll do the rest.”

“Any idea where I should start?”

“I’ll search the cameras. In the meantime just, follow the putrid stench of white male ego, kid. You might find him before I do.”

“Oof.” Peter shakes his head. “I mean, I understand you’re not in love with the guy, Mr. Stark, but I thought you’d hugged and made up in 1970. Sorta.”

"We are… beyond complicated." There's a beat. Tony sighs. "I remembered that phone call."

"Oh." Peter scrunches his eyebrows. The storage unit. The quiet yelling. "You mean… back there? That's you he was talking to?"

"Pete."

"Sorry, I don't mean to pry, he just sounded so —"

"No, listen —"

"You don't have to tell me if —"

_ "Peter." _ Tony's voice comes clipped. "Drop what you're doing. Get out of there. He's coming to you."

"Wha—" Oh.  _ Oh. _

"Shit, why didn't I catch this earlier. He's in the hallway, kid. Approaching the elevator. Shit."

"I don't —" Peter glances at the computer. Password still at 48 percent. The green bar crawling so, so slowly.  _ Shit indeed. _ "I can't, Mr. Stark. If I leave now, we — we gotta start over."

"He throws you in some SHIELD holding facility, Ethan Hunt, that voice recording's gonna be the least of our worries."

"Is he alone?"

"Parker, I swear —"

"Tony!" Some part of Peter's brain reacts in shock to find himself yelling at his mentor, but Peter pushes it away. Apologies later.

Tony pauses too, for a couple of seconds. "Alone," he eventually responds, more calmly. "Not moving too fast, I don't think he knows you're in there."

“We don’t know when we’re gonna get another opportunity.” Peter nods determinedly. "I'm beating two birds with one bush."

"Way to murder both expressions."

"Hey, my nerves are cooking up here!" Peter returns the computer to the screensaver, keeping his glasses carefully positioned on the desk to continue the transfer. He prays Howard won't spot them.

"Elevator, heads up." Tony sighs resignedly. "You know what you're doing, right? I trust you, kid."

"Yeah," Peter squeaks. He clears his throat. "Yeah, thanks."

He wipes his sweat off, finger-combs his hair, smooths down his plain t-shirt and jeans (thank god he didn't have anything incriminating on him like the Midtown High logo or Avengers merchandise). Plops down on a leather couch with what he hopes passes as a slightly bored expression.

A second later, the doors open, and Howard Stark steps out.

-

Since Peter didn’t actually peek back in the storage unit, this is the first time he sees Howard Stark that isn’t through some picture or documentary.

The man takes up space. Strides out of the elevator like he owns the room — which, Peter reminds himself, he does. Sharp suit, perfectly groomed gray hair, with an airy stance Peter used to recognize in Tony from old news features and interviews, but not when he’s with him personally. Howard, though, owns it, takes that aura and wraps himself in it. He spots Peter on the sofa, eyes immediately hardening, and Peter feels like he’s been called into the principal’s office and caught him on a bad day. Except a hundred times worse, because being sentenced to detention by this principal would cost him the next forty years.

Peter takes a deep breath. “Mr. Stark?”

“One and only. Who are you?” Howard sets his hands on his hips, tone sharp but much calmer than Peter had anticipated. “And why’d they let you up here?”

“I’m, I — we haven’t met.” Peter rises from his seat, sticking a hand out to shake. Hoping it doesn’t start to sweat in his trepidation.

Howard pauses. “You — wait,” he says slowly. Then Peter sees it — in an instant, the frown disappears, a corner of his mouth lifts up, and tough CEO Howard Stark gives way to the smirking genius the public loves. “Aren’t you that Parker kid?”

Peter freezes. Through the earpiece, he hears Tony make a choking sound.

Howard raises an eyebrow. “Well? You are, aren’t you?” Peter feels his heart in his throat. When he doesn’t answer, Howard presses on. “That awardee? We shook hands on stage. I’m not good with names, but uh, Raymond? Robert?”

_ Richard, _ Peter realizes, eyes widening, but heart and stomach sinking back into their proper place.

“No.” Peter clears his dry throat. “No, I’m not, I’m —”

“Kid, heads up, EDITH got the password,” Tony says quickly in his ear. “I’m analyzing and it looks like, some of the technical words, luckily he already said to the group back in the lab. I’ve got it on record. Tell you the rest in a second.”

Peter clenches and unclenches his left hand, steadies himself, while his right hand is still held out. “My name is, uh, Ned… Jones, sir.”

Some of the frown returns to Howard’s eyes, but he shakes Peter’s hand. “Well, Mr. Jones, if my secretary sent you in, this must be worth my time, no?”

“Yes,” Peter says slowly, trying to buy as much time as he can. “Yes, of course, uh —”

“Here we go.” Tony fires the words off rapidly. “Eight words, Peter, copy?”

_ Copy. _ Peter shuffles the words around in his head, deciding on the best approach to elicit them all as quickly as possible. He’d already thought up a couple of different tactics, but he hurriedly factors in Howard’s current mood, the impression he’d already left on him, and any new information on hand. Sometimes he’s really thankful to that spider for the enhanced stimulus processing. He makes his decision.

“Sir, I know your son. Tony.”

Something shifts in Howard’s stance. He leans back ever so slightly, crosses his arms, his voice dropping an octave lower. “What?”

_ “What?” _ Tony hisses in Peter’s ear.

“I go to MIT with him,” Peter presses on, trying to ignore the mental image of Tony’s incredulous face at the moment. “We hang out sometimes, me and um, James Rhodes? But I’m not sure if Tony’s mentioned me.” Howard’s eyes narrow. Peter swallows hard. “I can prove it, uh. Last year, just before Christmas break, they got into trouble, broke into a platypus display over at the biology department.”

“Anyone who knows the school gossip could —”

“It got out of hand, caused a lot of damage, and you paid to cover it up. It was a drunk dare, and Tony explained it to his mother and Jarvis, but you were mad he didn’t come to you. You’ve barely spoken to him since.”

Nobody had told Peter all that, exactly. But he put together the event from some of Rhodey’s stories, the current date, and Tony’s comment on the phone call, and threw a hail Mary.

“Alright, so you know my son.” Howard waves dismissively, and Peter quietly exhales in relief. “Got into our personal business too, haven’t you? Just like that Rhodes kid? What do you want?”

_ “Business,” score. One. Now I want you to repeat the rest of these words after me… _ But Peter pushes the thought down. Force wouldn’t help him here.

Peter puts on the most serious expression he can manage. “I wanted to ask your opinion on quantum theory.”

Howard raises an eyebrow. “Quantum theory? Why…”

_ Two. _ “Or no, actually, wasn’t it, your thoughts on the life of the inventor Nicole… Nicolai…?”

A second of silence, and Peter is almost scared it doesn’t work. But then Howard says “Nikola Tesla?”

_ Three. _

“It’s for, you don’t have to — actually, never mind.”

“Did you rehearse this, or is it just your usual jabbering?”

“Sorry, sir. Um…” Peter rubs at the back of his neck, tries to look hesitant. “It’s just… well, our graduation ceremonies are a couple of months from now.”

“I’m well aware.” Peter doesn’t miss how Howard checks his watch.

“And I just know… It would mean a lot to Tony if you’d come. See some of the things he’s worked on, like that… quantum... he’s done some interesting stuff.”

Howard scoffs. “You break into my office to give me family advice, son?”

_ Break into? _ Peter wants to ask Tony, but restrains himself from giving it away. Thankfully, in a seemingly telepathic move, Tony quickly informs, “He hasn’t tripped the silent alarm yet, you’re good.”

“We talked last week over drinks and… fondue?” Peter tilts his head in his best imitation of an innocent-pretending Morgan Stark. “That’s what you call the, uh, that chocolate, right?”

“Fondue is bread and cheese,” Howard replies shortly. And then stiffens, frowning.

_ Four, five, and six. _ But Peter senses he needs to quicken the pace. Howard Stark wasn’t a genius for nothing.

“He told me you have an international meeting that week, you’ll probably miss it,” Peter pushes. He knows, from a conversation with Tony years ago, Howard  _ did _ miss it. “I just — I think he’ll remember, even years later. If you didn’t.”

Inconspicuously, in a move Peter might not have caught if not for his super senses, Howard presses something on the side of his watch. “I  _ do _ have a meeting that week,” he says slowly. “Which, incidentally, I found out about just this morning.” Howard narrows his eyes at Peter. “Tony has no idea yet.”

Peter feels the plan crumble to pieces around him.

“Silent alarm!” Tony reports. “I’m blocking the signal, hurry before he notices.”

_ I’m trying to! _ Peter feels the beads of sweat on his forehead. “What? Oh. I must have gotten it wrong, maybe he said…”

But Howard darts behind his desk. Picks something up and holds it in front of him. The glasses.

“No reporter would know that either,” Howard says in a low voice. He tosses EDITH to Peter. “Whoever you are, please, make yourself comfortable! You have about thirty seconds before my guards arrive.”

_ Not if Tony could hold them, but how long would that last? _ Hopefully long enough, with how quickly Howard’s mood had turned. “I’m not here to hurt you!” Peter tries.

Howard stomps back to him, scowling, and despite himself, Peter steps back.  _ Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have led with that. _

“You think I’m an idiot?” The older man towers over him, hands on hips, like confronting some incompetent juvie offender. Completely blocking his exit. “What words are you making me say, huh, kid?"

_ Damn. He noticed. _

Howard steps even closer. "You think I’ve got no other security besides some spoken phrase?”

_ I think you didn’t account for 2023 tech being used on all other security besides that phrase. _ But Peter puts up his hands in defense anyway, still playing his role. Howard had just given him word number seven. “I’m just trying to —”

“What about all that other stuff? You got men surveilling my son, too?”

Peter swallows hard.

A thousand thoughts fight for attention in his mind. But one rises above all others:  _ I can’t bring young Tony into this blown cover now. _

“No, no, no.” Peter shakes his head desperately. “No, I lied. Tony isn’t involved in this —”

“I’m sure I’ll see you in an interrogation room soon.” Howard steps back with a smirk, as if to say, conversation over.

But then a few seconds pass, and no troops storm the room. Howard practically punches the hidden button on his watch, not hiding it from Peter anymore.

Nothing.

Peter isn’t sure what he expects Howard to do now. Run to the elevator? Pound on the buttons when they don’t respond, surely due to Tony’s intervention? Take his phone out and curse at the “no signal” indication?

Well, yeah, he does all that. But then Howard spins on his heel, grabs a metal trophy, and advances on Peter.

“Whoa, whoa —”

“What do you want, you little shit?”

He swings. Peter ducks.

“One more word!”  _ No use pretending now. _ “One, that’s it!”

“Did Tony put you up to this?” Howard roars. Peter can’t believe how quickly he snapped from quietly mean to full-on furious. “Is this some kind of prank, huh? Or is this a kidnapping!”

“Dude, you gotta relax,” Peter squeaks, dodging another blow. Acting on impulse, he grabs his glasses and makes EDITH bring up a holographic image of Captain America at the airport. “Mr. Howard, sir, can you tell me who this is?”

Howard freezes. The surroundings don’t give too much of the future away — but Steve’s uniform isn’t the World War 2 version. Peter was counting on that.

In two seconds he has the trophy flying across the room, and Howard Stark in a headlock.

“Captain!” Peter grunts. “That’s the last word, I just need you to —”

“I’m not giving — another —” Howard claws at Peter’s arms.

“I’m so sorry — I’m really sorry — I’ll leave you in here, you can get out after a while, I just need that last —”

“Peter,” Tony’s voice interrupts urgently, “his silent alarm overrides are overriding my overrides, I can’t hold that room much longer.”

“Just say it, man!” Peter wraps his arm tighter.

“Captain!”

Peter almost releases the man completely in his shock. That was actually pretty easy.

He loosens his grip slowly, and just as slowly, realizes Howard must have been doing the math, and knows Peter hadn’t actually gotten the whole password out of him in that office. Howard doesn’t know about Tony’s recording from back in the empty lab.

“Got it,” Tony confirms a moment later. “We’re good, Peter. Get that watch off him and leave.”

Peter sags in relief.

Howard coughs, still in Peter’s loose hold. “You’ll be — sorry —”

“Jail, revenge, all that jazz,” Peter murmurs, mind now grappling with how to contain Howard. “I’m sure you’ll get me good.”

“You and Tony.”

Peter groans. “Again, sir, your son had nothing —”

“And this is all a coincidence? That phone call? Now he sends some crony after my personal safe, defending him all the way?” There’s a venom in voice Peter hadn’t heard even when Howard swung a blunt weapon at his head.

“You just said Tony didn’t know about your meeting!” he says exasperatedly.

“Wouldn’t be the first thing he hid from me,” Howard spits.

“Peter,” Tony urges, “tie him up and get out of there. Teenage me will take care of this, make him see reason.”

“Trust me,” Peter replies, tightening his hold again when Howard starts struggling, “this guy is far from reasonable right now.”

“What?” Howard says.

Peter kicks himself. He’d said that out loud, hadn’t he?

Slowly, and then all at once, the voices start to muddle in Peter’s head. Howard hisses profanities, Tony repeats the warning to get the hell out. Howard demands to know who Peter’s talking to, sure it’s Tony. The older Tony says to just strangle the guy already. Howard screams for security, Peter tries unsuccessfully to clamp a hand over his mouth. And then Howard starts to rage at Tony.

Peter catches only a few words, but he’s sure of the gist. And he’s sure of something else: he can’t leave the younger Tony to deal with his mess. Not in any universe. Slowly, and then all at once, Peter makes his decision.

“Mr. Stark,” he whispers slowly, clearly into Howard’s ear. “I’m not usually supposed to do this. But you should know who’s really responsible for this. And the hell it’s not your son.”

Howard continues to wriggle in Peter’s grasp, but he stops yelling. Tony, too, goes silent on the other end of the line.

Peter takes a breath. Articulates his next words carefully, deliberately.

“Hail Hydra.”

And then with one punch, Peter knocks Howard Stark out.

-

By some miracle Peter reaches Tony back at the empty lab without incident. Crossing the room with his hands already in the air in a surrendering gesture, and a defense on the tip of his tongue, Peter stops in his tracks when he sees Tony practically lounging in a chair, grinning.

“Well,” Tony says, a twinkle in his eye, “that’s that taken care of.”

“I — I may have freaked out just a little bit, towards the end? But honestly, Mr. Stark — wow that sounds so weird now, referring to you.”

“I bet.”

“Honestly this is one of those days when I’m just like, this might as well happen.”

“One last thing to do, John Mulaney.” Tony holds up a small recording device, no doubt another of his metal arm wonders. “Safe, core, then we continue this conversation. And get the hell home.”

Peter is still amazed by how easy he’s gotten off the hook for this. But then, meeting Howard Stark for himself, he thinks maybe there was never too big of a hook to get into with Tony anyway. He catches the gadget neatly when Tony throws it. “Sounds good to me.”

-

Peter makes quick work of the safe once Tony is able to get him in. Just a quick stealth mission, almost second nature. He grits his teeth when he plays Howard’s passcode on the recording device, but for once, Parker’s luck gives him a pass.

Howard’s voice spouts random technological terms, strung together by Tony on some retro software. And then, at the tail end of the password: “Fondue is just cheese and bread, Captain idiot.”

Peter had heard the story behind that one, too (and it’s not even the most drunk-Avengers-thing he’s ever eavesdropped on). He snickers all the way back to the lab.

He returns to Tony sitting amidst a half-circle of screens and old computers, an impressive setup he’d probably expanded since Peter had last been in the room. It looks exactly like the tech support control room on one of those spy movies. Peter whistles to announce his arrival. “Wow, Mr. Stark, you’re in, like, your element right here.”

“Hey, so are you, 007.” Tony smiles, taking the device Peter had retrieved from the safe.

“Building’s pretty empty now, I think most folks went home.”

“Don’t worry, I still got security and surveillance under control. We won’t be disturbed.”

Tony turns to a workstation he’s already set up on one of the tables; Peter hands him some tools. And it’s the best part of his crazy day. They work together like the past inactive months meant nothing, both comfortable in their shared element.

“How’s Howard doing?” Peter asks eventually, when the bracelet core starts to come together.

“Still stewing in his office. Pretty sure he’ll stay tied up there until Jarvis checks in around ten. Just another evening for the workaholic.”

Peter hums in acknowledgement, but something in Tony’s flippant tone nudges at him. “You’re taking this really easy.”

Tony shrugs, eyes still on the miniature core in his fingers. “He threw a blunt weapon at your head, kid, I’m not gonna go crying over the guy.”

“I thought you’d be mad.”

Tony barks a laugh. “‘Course I’m mad! I got us into this mess and you almost land in an 80’s prison for it?”

“All that time, you know, I kept thinking, I never should have approached it this way in the first place, it was just one wrong thing after another, and —”

“Hey, no, don’t do that.” Tony drops the device for a second to look Peter in the eyes. “Don’t second-guess yourself. You did what you had to, kid, and then some. Clearing younger me’s record at the end? I mean, you didn’t even have to. But on behalf of that bastard… thanks.”

Peter shrugs. “I thought he had enough to deal with.”

“Yeah.” Tony laughs. “Good luck to him. He only wishes he had a smooth-talking genius on his side.”

Peter feels his cheeks blushing with the casual praise. He clears his throat. “So, um. I’m a little concerned with the ramifications of — of the Hydra thing, though.”

Tony chuckles. “God, I wish Howard’s security cameras were a little less grainy, I would’ve loved to see his face.”

“Tony.”

“Ramifications, right, right.” They’re both silent for a while as Tony solders the last wires together. “Well, if Hydra is uncovered long before the time of Alexander Pierce, that can’t be the worst hiccup in the fabric of reality. Infinite possibilities, and all that,” he continues eventually. “But uh, if Dr. Steven Universe wants to yell at someone, he knows where to find us.” Tony holds up the time bracelet. “Well, he knows now.”

Peter whistles at the device. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Tony confirms. “It’s over.”

“Wow.” Peter chuckles, the relief that’s been slowly building up since he left Howard’s office finally washing over him. “You know, crazy as this was, I… I kinda missed it.” Tony raises an eyebrow at that. “Going on missions, you know,” Peter clarifies. “Lab time. I don’t know.”

“I know,” Tony says, voice softening. Something in his face softens too. “Me too. And for what it’s worth, Pete… if this thing had to throw us back in time… I’m just sorry it had to be here. That we had to — well, you had to meet my crappy dad. And not  _ your _ awesome, science awardee dad.”

Peter swallows. He thought Tony had forgotten that little moment, Howard’s quick mention at the office.

He hadn’t, apparently. And neither had Peter.

But Peter had learned over the years, there was a difference between holding something special in the moments you have it, and grabbing after it long after it’s gone. This, apparently, was a case of the former.

“It’s okay,” Peter says softly, after a pause. And looking up into his mentor’s eyes, Peter finds that he means it. That he’s okay. “I wouldn’t want to risk a Back to the Future anyway,” he adds lightly. “Cease to exist, and all that? Sounds problematic.”

“Not how time travel works.” Tony smiles, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “But seriously. We better look up some photos, I just gotta see that Peter Parker look-alike in 80’s garb.”

Peter grins. “I wonder if he had my right hook too.”

“God, that reminds me,” Tony laughs. “Welcome to the super exclusive, three-member club: people who have punched Howard Stark’s lights out.”

Peter joins him in laughter, lighter than he’d ever felt during this whole time adventure. And it feels so familiar, him and Tony with a finished project in front of them. Laughing the tension off. Feels like the old days. Feels good.

“You join the likes of Peggy Carter, kid,” Tony chortles. “You should be proud.”

Peter clutches the back of his head self-consciously, but he can’t stop the tips of his ears from turning pink. “Who’s the third member?” he asks. “You?”

“What? You think I — no,” Tony scoffs, grinning like he's sharing a life-changing secret. “Rhodey.”

Peter’s jaw drops. Looks like there’s still a sixth thing he has to find out about Howard Stark.

He’s just about to press Tony for more information, but then a portal opens in front of them. And Dr. Strange steps out to take them home.

Zero days since the last strike of Parker luck. Peter has never been so thankful to reset the clock.


End file.
